


Where You Belong.

by sksdwrld



Series: Sins of the Flesh [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Twincest, Voyeurism, posessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is more than Mordred's twin brother, Merlin *belongs* to Mordred. After allowing a tryst with Arthur, Mordred needs to reclaim his rightful place.  And since he's such a swell guy, he'll even let Arthur watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You Belong.

A crisp morning breeze drifted across Mordred's face and his eyelashes fluttered. With a deep breath, Mordred became aware of his consciousness and he moved his fingers, the panic in him instantly quelled when he realized that the warm flesh he was stroking was not his own.

Merlin.

Beneath the blanket, Mordred ran his hand over the ridge of Merlin's ribcage, into the shallow dip of his waist and up over the curve of his hipbones. It was there that Mordred's hand collided with another set of fingers and derailed.

He barely contained the possessive snarl that rose in his throat , even as the memory of the evening prior returned to him. Arthur Bloody Pendragon had smarmed his way into Merlin's pants and Mordred, for Merlin's sake had allowed it. Carefully, Mordred nudged Arthur's square, blunt digits from Merlin's hip, curling his own fingers in their place and tugging Merlin closer to him.

Wedging his knee between Merlin's, Mordred shifted closer until there was only a seam between them where their skins pressed together, the only thing keeping them from truly being one.

Merlin roused slightly, rolling their hips together as he wrapped his arms around Mordred's back. In that moment, Merlin was his, but mere centimetres away was the very threat to everything Mordred held dear.

Involuntarily, Mordred's fingers clenched, digging into Merlin's back hard enough to draw a gasp from him. Fully awake now, Merlin tipped his head, mouthing Mordred's chest, dragging his tongue in a lazy way that made heat pool in Mordred's groin. "You're still mine, aren't you?" Mordred whispered, angry with himself for posing it as a question, disturbed that he'd had to ask at all. 

And in a fleeting moment of irrational jealously, Mordred thought that if Merlin said no, he'd kill them both. 

"Always..." Merlin promised on a breath and tugged Mordred's face down , sucking on each of his lips in turn before letting their tongues meet, starting that old, familiar dance that was Mordred's one true comfort. He poured himself into the kiss as if he could somehow sneak away inside of Merlin this way, as if perhaps he could find the right angle and Merlin would breath him in, swallow him down. They rocked together, each knowing just the way to touch, feel, caress the other to draw out a sigh of pleasure or a groan of delight. 

Finally, Mordred could stand it no more and rolled atop Merlin, pushing his arms to the ground about their heads. He sat on Merlin's hips the way he had when they were children , let his thumb and forefinger form an unjoined ring at the base of Merlin's throat. Merlin lay passive and still, his eyes full of adoration but it wasn't enough for Mordred. Mordred was still angry, still _wounded_ that Merlin should have eyes for any other because Mordred himself only burned one flame, and it was all-consuming, white hot. His hand moved up the column of Merlin's throat, coming to rest at the soft spot just under the chin. Merlin's Adam's apple bobbed beneath Mordred's palm.

"Did you like your gift, Merlin?" He slanted his eyes sideways for the first time since waking and found the Pendragon boy curled in the blankets but gazing back, teeth compressing his bottom lip in a way that might have been adorable in any other circumstance but now was infuriating.

"Mordred..." Merlin began.

But, Mordred was having none of that. His eyes snapped back , searching his brother's gaze and his fingers twitched, threatening. After all this time, didn't Merlin understand? He willed Merlin to understand, collecting all of his emotion and sending it outward.

Sadness filtered through the look on Merlin's face and he reached again for Mordred. Mordred batted Merlin's arms away and leaned forward, planting his hands on either side of Merlin's head. "Did. You. Like. It?"

Merlin's lashes fluttered down and dampened before Mordred's eyes. "Yes, Love. Thank you."

"Did you scratch your itch, brother of _mine_?" Mordred questioned as he ground his hips into Merlin's.

Merlin arched, lifting his hips and letting his legs move wider apart so that Mordred slipped between them. "I always itch."

"I know." Mordred said, and he did. Merlin was insatiable and there were days that he nearly killed himself trying to be everything that Merlin needed. [o] His palms slipped down Merlin's chest and belly, ghosting over Merlin's straining prick -so like his own, then down Merlin's thighs, dusted with coarse, dark hairs. Mordred hooked his hands behind Merlin's knees and forced them up, folding Merlin in half.

Merlin grunted and Mordred pushed them higher. Somedays, he wanted to see the extent that Merlin would suffer his abuse, because it seemed the truest gauge he had of Merlin's love for him. Thus far Merlin had not denied him but Mordred's confidence that things would remain such was wavering.

Mordred pulled Merlin's legs over his shoulders, freeing his hands to rake their way downward again, pausing to pinch red welts here and there and Merlin bore this punishment stoically.

"You are mine and this is mine and this is mine." Mordred chanted, more to himself than anyone as he intimately stroked Merlin in the places that no one else, save Arthur, had ever had the pleasure of touching. 

"And this..." Merlin interjected and when Mordred glanced up, he saw Merlin's hand pressed over his heart. 

The smallest of smiles turned the corners of Mordred's lips. "All of it. I will take and take and take until you are no more, I fear." And turning his head, he kissed Merlin's thigh

Merlin's smile blossomed then and his eyes crinkled with delight. "Mordred....what is the one thing that the more you take away, the bigger it becomes?"

Mordred's brows narrowed in thought because he'd heard this one before. And then, it came to him. "A hole."

"A hole!" Merlin giggled madly and Mordred couldn't help but grin at his idiotic, stupid, brilliant, wonderful brother.

"So we are perfect for eachother then, you, the daft whore and I, your suitor." Mordred pressed his thumb to his twin's entrance and like flipping a switch, Merlin was serious once more.

"Enough playing, Mordred. I want you. I need you. _Fuck me_."

There was a soft groan beside them and Mordred spared another glance for Arthur, who was a pretty picture, he had to admit, with his flushed cheeks, glistening parted lips and lust-hooded eyes.

"While your courtesan watches?" Mordred's question turned into a sneer.

Merlin huffed impatiently. "How many times must I tell you that you're the only one I need? I love you, Mordred, you jealous bastard. And I do want him, for us though, because without you, there is no him. Send him away if you like."

There. It was everything Mordred had needed to hear, and the pretty posh whore had heard it too. His rage quelled, all that remained was need, and in Mordred, that emotion was constantly simmering in the background. Mordred decided, "I don't think I will. I think I'll show him just what it means to _belong_."

And Mordred descended upon Merlin, fisting his hair to hold him in place as he devoured him, kissing, licking, nipping and biting every centimetre of Merlin's skin within reach. Merlin whimpered and whined but nevertheless clutched at Mordred, arching and offering himself up for more, more, more.

At one point, the bottle of lube found it's way into Mordred's hand but by the time he had his fingers buried in Merlin's arse, he couldn't remember using it, though he must have. Even the unbidden thoughts of Arthur's curdled jism inside of Merlin, tainting the place that Mordred came home to were not enough to make him stop. As he pulled his fingers free, he flicked them in Arthur's general direction before wiping his hand hastily on the blanket.

Merlin, bless the wanton little slut, was bouncing beneath Mordred in his eagerness to be taken. Mordred could no longer deny him. He fed his cock into Merlin's greedy, greedy hole and began to thrust without preamble. They kissed as they fucked, because as much as Merlin needed to be filled, it was Mordred who needed to fill him, and somedays Mordred thought it wouldn't be enough until he found a way to climb inside of Merlin's skin along with him. This was one of such days.

When Merlin came —and thank the Gods he did, because Mordred could hardly hold himself back— Mordred spilled himself into the hot, clenching chasm around him and spiralled into the dark abyss of post-orgasmic bliss. Truth be told, he often fancied that he and Merlin were most connected then, the frayed ends of their nerves somehow twisted together, completing the circuit. Mordred thought he could see the inside of Merlin's brain, his most private thoughts —the ones he kept even from Mordred—slipping past, letting their trenchcoats peek open, giving just the barest glimpses.

_I want him for us..._

In Merlin's mindseye, or perhaps Mordred's own (he was too shattered to tell the difference), Mordred saw Arthur stroke himself to completion and a moment later, he heard a muffled grunt that confirmed it.

 _You see?_ Merlin seemed to say as he tightened his arms around Mordred, stroking his back with his fingertips before kissing Mordred's head with brotherly affection. _He is meant to be ours._


End file.
